The Krytos Trap (31 page)

Probably not flashy enough for her, but if my X-wings were marked up to be Rogue Squadron ships
—
and the news-nets have been full of examples that making last-minute changes to match the paint jobs will be easy enough
—
I can sow more discord and distrust between the people and the Rebel government. Iceheart would like that
.

The problem with doing just that, however, was that the operation did not help him eliminate Vorru as a threat.
If
, instead of destroying the convoy, he hijacked it to another system, he would have control of a very large shipment of a
vital commodity. While Vorru had a solid lock on the bacta black market on Imperial Center, there were other worlds clamoring for the medicine. If he used his supply correctly he could enrich himself. He would betray Vorru to the Rebels—not to the government on Imperial Center, but to the constituent governments on the various Rebel homeworlds, thereby increasing distrust between them and the rulers on Imperial Center.

Or I can enrich myself, buy a world all my own, and put Boba Fett on retainer to slay my enemies
. That thought brought a smile to Loor’s face.
The list would not be long, but it would not be an easy one to complete. A fitting challenge for a man with his skills
.

Loor closed his eyes and gently massaged them beneath his eyelids. As satisfying as enriching himself would be, he realized he had to be very careful. Killing Vorru and Isard would provide him short-term pleasure, but he had to be looking at his long-term position. His first step was to guarantee his survival, his second to maximize his potential for power. Hijacking the bacta worked just as well to hurt the Rebellion as did destroying it, but it left him vulnerable to accusations by Isard that he wasn’t devoting himself to his duty of destroying the Rebellion. She could easily see the hijacking as a move to make him independent of her, and she would not like that.

I can always argue that I wanted to get out from under Vorru’s influence and nothing more
. He doubted that such an argument would insulate him from her anger and retribution when she found out what he had done. And he knew she would find out—it was a question how much time he had until she did. If he could keep her in the dark for a month, either he would have gained enough power that he did not need to fear her, or
she will have had me killed
.

He realized once again that only by escaping her could he possibly survive.
This gives me no choice
.

He carefully began to compose a message. He told her of his intent to use the duplicate Rogue Squadron to “eliminate” the convoy. He would later argue that he would have said “destroy” if that’s what he had meant to do.
Time being
of the essence, I can’t give her the whole plan, I can merely let her know I am dealing with the problem
.

He scanned his message, then prepared it for sending. He almost sent it immediately, then hesitated.
No, if I send it now, she could possibly countermand my orders. I’ll give her a day’s warning. By the time she considers what will happen, it will all be done
.

And Kirtan Loor would be one giant step closer to being free.

29

Four minutes to reversion to reakpace
. Nawara Ven began a quick systems check on his X-wing. Lasers were powered up and linked for offside firing in pairs. He had six proton torpedoes, and had configured that weapon system to shoot them one at a time. Fuel was good; acceleration compensator was set .05 off full, giving him a feel for his position in space, and his life-support systems checked out—including the heated stockings into which he fit his lekku to protect them if he got blasted out of his cockpit.

He shivered. He’d been shot out of an X-wing during the first battle of Borleias. The concussion of ejecting had stunned him. He’d floated in space, helpless, in the midst of a roiling dogfight. Cold nibbled away at his fingers, toes, and lek-tips, while a little Chronographic indicator flashing on the inside of his helmet’s evac-visor counted down the minutes until his air supply quit. Watching the seconds slip away, he’d felt time was moving a lot faster than it should have.

I knew I was going to die
. He shook his head.
Then Captain Celchu showed up and saved me. He didn’t have to do that. In fact, he was insane to do that. After he pulled me to safety, there was no way I could ever think he was an Imperial agent
.

A beep from his R5 unit marked 30 seconds to reversion. “Thanks. Even up my shields forward and back. I don’t expect trouble, but I want to be ready.”

The droid complied with the request and Nawara prepared himself for the rendezvous with the bacta convoy. Rogue Squadron’s Two flight, led by Lieutenant Pash Cracken and including Gavin and Shiel as well as Nawara, was supposed to break off and head sunward to cover the tail end of the convoy. The last ship was to be the
Pulsar Skate
, so they’d form up on it. One flight, with Wedge in the lead, would take the head of the convoy, and Three flight, which was still one pilot short, was to orient itself toward any trouble.

Not that there should be any. The shards of Alderaan formed an asteroid field commonly known as the Graveyard. The majority of traffic into the sector came from Alderaanian expatriots returning to see the sun beneath which they were born one more time and to leave grave-gifts among the asteroids. Others came to plunder those grave-gifts, and some even claimed to have seen a massive armory ship named
Another Chance
among the planet’s ruins—though Nawara thought that ship as much a legend as the fabled Katana fleet.

I wanted to ask Tycho if he wanted me to leave anything for him, but I wasn’t allowed any contact with him after I was briefed
. Nawara had recorded a message and saved it in the computer for Tycho in case he didn’t make it back, but the mission was supposed to be little more than ceremonial. Aside from their timetable slipping by three quarters of an hour because of a fuel pump failure that delayed their takeoff, the mission had gone exactly as advertised.
But it’s the ones that are supposed to be easy that hurt the most
.

The white tunnel through which his ship had been hurtling exploded into a million separate pinpricks of fire. Some of those pinpricks resolved themselves into distant stars, while others refused to shrink. Green darts stabbed into some of the brighter points in the system, then those points exploded. “Sithspawn!”

“S-foils into attack position.” Wedge’s voice came
through the helmet comra unit strong and cool. “Twelve, get me a full scan of the sector. One and Two flights, on me.”

Nawara reached up with his right hand and flicked the switch that split his stabilizer foils into the cross pattern that gave the fighter its name. Nudging his stick to port, he brought his fighter in on Pash’s starboard flank with a fighter-length separating them. “I’ve got you, Five.”

“Thanks, Six.”

Aril Nunb broke into the comm channel with her report. “Caught a flash of something big heading out—a Super Star Destroyer. It’s gone, but in system we have two dozen eyeballs, two lambs, and a Strike Cruiser designated
Termagant
.”

“What about the freighters?”

“We just saw the last one explode.”

Nawara’s stomach folded in on itself. “Gone? They’re all gone?”

“An Imperial SSD wouldn’t leave much behind.” Fear and revulsion filled Rhysati’s voice, and Nawara could easily visualize the hard look in her hazel eyes. “We’re going in, right, Rogue Leader?”

“Twelve, any sign of the
Skate
?”

“No, Commander.”

“Nothing at all? No beacon?”

“There’s no beacon from half the hulks I have on my scan.” Aril’s voice softened a bit. “A Super Star Destroyer has enough power to completely vape any of the ships in the convoy.”

“Right, right.” Wedge’s voice trailed off and no one spoke to fill the void. “Blast it! All right, listen up. We’re going in, and we’re going in hot. The Strike Cruiser is our primary target. Proton torps, dual-fire. I want it down and out immediately.”

Erisi’s voice crackled through the comm unit. “That means the TIEs will have no way to get out of here.”

The edge in Wedge’s voice came through unadulterated. “Is that a problem?”

“Not for me, Lead.”

Nawara keyed his comm unit. “What about the lambs?”
The two
Lambda-
class shuttles carried weapons and could be tougher than TIEs to handle because they also sported shields.

“We give them one chance to run. After that, they can go away, too.”

Aril again spoke. “I’m downloading tac-data to everyone.
Termagant
isn’t straight Imp, it’s allied with Zsinj.”

“
Was
allied with Zsinj.” Wedge’s ship began to lengthen its lead over the others. “Come on, Rogues. Warlord Zsinj apparently wanted the Alliance’s attention. Here’s where we make him pay for that mistake.”

Following Wedge, the squadron sped in toward Zsinj’s forces and the convoy debris. The convoy had been ambushed out beyond the Graveyard and a bit below the system’s orbital plane. Rogue Squadron had come in on the other side of the orbital plane. Because of this, and because of the way Zsinj’s forces chose to orient themselves respective to the system, by flying down to them, Rogue Squadron was, from their perspective flying in
up
at their bellies.

Nawara watched his tactical screen. Because the TIEs were making strafing runs on what were left of the freighters, they had no unit cohesion. With the enormous amount of debris in and around where they were flying, Nawara would have been surprised if they had any clue about Rogue Squadron’s approach.
So the ambushers get ambushed. How fitting
.

With the flick of his thumb he brought his weapons-control over to proton torpedoes. Another touch of a button and he linked both launching tubes. Range to the
Termagant
stood at 4.5 kilometers. The X-wings closed fast as Wedge led them down and around the freighter debris field, then over and in at the Strike Cruiser. Nawara’s head’s-up display went from green to yellow as the cruiser filled his sights, then blazed red as his R5’s keening wail announced he had a target lock.

“Rogues, launch
now
!”

On Wedge’s command the squadron fired their proton torpedoes in near-perfect unison. Twenty-two torpedoes streaked in at the lozenge-shaped Strike Cruiser, coming up
toward the ventral hull. The first couple detonated brilliantly white against the ship’s shields, but the rest pushed on through. Several exploded against the hull, shredding and blackening armor plating, while still more burst inside the ship. Argent fire gushed from the ragged hole in the ship’s hull, then geysered out of several smaller openings on the upper part of the ship.

The Strike Cruisers, as a class of ship, had been highly lauded because of their unique construction. Built around a central skeleton that bound the bridge to the engines, their other components were completely modular. A cruiser configured to carry troops could, after a short stay in some spaceyard, emerge a TIE carrier like
Termagant
. Strike Cruisers allowed the Empire to change the makeup of the Imperial fleet without building entirely new ships.

That strength is
Termagant’
s weakness
. As the torpedoes exploded inside the ship, the ship itself began to break apart. The prow drifted upward as if the ship had run into an invisible wall. Armored hull plates shattered where they had covered the seam between the bow and the starboard TIE hangar. The forward part of the hangar started twisting as it ripped free of the skeleton. The cruiser began to roll, then the whole front half of the ship spun off as the ship’s waist evaporated in the inferno the torpedoes caused.

“The eyes of the Warlord are upon us,” Gavin quipped. “TIEs inbound.”

Nawara flipped back to his lasers and broke to port with Pash. Coming up over the top, they climbed toward the incoming eyeballs. He punched all power to his forward shield and prepared for a head-to-head pass. He dropped his crosshairs on the growing speck that was an approaching TIE starfighter. He watched the range close, then popped a quick shot off. A pair of laser-bolts glanced off the eyeball’s port panel, imparting a spin to the ship. Nawara started to dive after it, but with his speed, he overshot it.

“I got the other half of it, Six.”

“Thanks, Gavin.” Nawara evened out his shields and pulled back up. Inverting his ship, he completed a big loop and followed the rest of squadron back into the fray. In the
boiling cloud of fighters, friend and foe flashed past so quickly that it was impossible to account for everyone’s position. Nawara knew a number of the other pilots in the squadron had a “situational awareness” that was superior to his own, but he figured this battle had to be taxing even them.

And if you take long enough to line up a shot
 … The hiss of lasers gnawing away at his aft shield completed his thought and sent a jolt through him. “I have one on my tail. I’m going to try to shake him.”

Nawara hit the right rudder pedal, swinging the X-wing’s aft to port. He kicked the ship up onto the starboard S-foil, then pulled the stick back and curled down into a corkscrew dive. He throttled back a bit, hoping his pursuer would overshoot him, but the aft scan showed the pilot pulling a twisting roll and dive that covered more distance, keeping him in behind Nawara.

The Twi’lek punched the throttle forward and enlarged the gap between them, then broke hard to port and started to climb again.
Maybe that will get rid of him
.

Lasers hissing on his aft shields again told him the tactic hadn’t worked. Nawara rocked the X-wing back and forth and bounced it up and down, making it a tough target to hit, but the TIE pilot stayed with him.

I have to do something
. Sweat formed on his upper lip and leaked in at the corners of his mouth, coating his tongue with the taste of copper. His lekku twitched in their fabric prisons.
Maybe if I run into the Graveyard …